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by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Death, I'm Sorry, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He felt hopeless, desperate for something, someone, as he watched the life drain from his lover's eyes.</p><p>~Depression vent.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Vent for my depression, it spiked tonight and needed to get something out. Set in early Season 4 or so because I just finished watching that season again.  
> Sorry in advance...  
> xx

Crunching leaves were all to be heard besides his heartbeat in his ears. His breath was harsh and ragged, panic surging through his being. Tears clouded his vision as he practically tore branches off trees, the ones that were in his way.

He finally stumbles into a clearing, off which a dead walker and _his_ hunter lay, both in a crumpled pile.

He feels sick to his stomach.

"No, no, no, come on, Daryl!" Rick cries, turning the archer over.

His eyes are open, but barely.

Blood is gushing from the crook between his shoulder and neck.

He can't look at the bite.

"R-Rick," he sputters, eyes widening.

"Shh, shh, I'm here, I'm here," he soothes him, pulling him into his lap.

He grunts, winces a bit, but relaxes into Rick's hold.

"I-I-"

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," Rick whispers through a gaze full of tears.

"R-Rick, I-" he pauses, coughing harshly. "I love you."

Blood soaks into Rick's shirt and jeans.

"I love you, too."

There aren't words to be spoken, then, just gazes full of last-minute love and pain.

He holds his hunter close, strokes his hair. Blood gets all over his hands and face, mixing with the tears.

Rick presses his lips to Daryl's temple, moves his mouth towards his ear.

"It's okay," he manages through the lump in his throat. "You can go, you don't have to suffer. I love you."

The archer's breath steadies, then slows.

Then it stops.

He feels like he was just punching in the chest - stabbed, even.

Rick pulls his head away from the hunter, still stroking his hair.

"Be safe," he sobs, pulling out his pocket knife.

He doesn't look as he pushes the blade into the back of his head.

~

He's exhausted by the time he reaches the prison, but he's intent on burying his hunter.

Alone.

"Dad?" Carl rushes up to his father.

He can't answer, just rolls his shoulder a bit as he carries Daryl's body on it.

"What happened?" another person asks; he can't see who anymore, because he's blinded by the tears.

"Oh my god."

"Here, here, let me help," Maggie insists.

Rick tries to push her away, but he just crumples to the ground.

He isn't sure if the sound he makes even comes from his mouth.

If it's human.

The others gently lift Daryl off the ground from where he'd fallen when Rick couldn't hold himself up.

"What happened out there?" Glenn asks.

"I-I...failed him. All of y'all."

"Don't say that," he replies, placing his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Death isn't something we can control, much less out there."

"I didn't even try," he sputters.

Then it's dark, cold. Empty.

Numb.

 


End file.
